


Sister to Battles

by primeideal



Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: Book 8: The Path of Daggers, Gen, Warders (Wheel of Time)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23719282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primeideal/pseuds/primeideal
Summary: Two Warders bond as they journey through Andor. No, not that kind of bonding.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Sister to Battles

**Author's Note:**

> I'm skipping a "book 7" fic in my reread, since these two technically met at the end of "A Crown of Swords" but probably didn't have much time to make small talk.

So Nynaeve had taken a husband. Good for her, Birgitte reckoned. The woman could be prone to fretting--she had blamed herself no end about Birgitte's injury in _Tel'aran'rhiod_ \--and a night or two in bed with a strong man might be just the thing to take her mind from troubles.

She'd called the man Malkieri, a name that meant as little to Birgitte as the Kandori identity he'd taken her for. But he could be as single-minded as the defenders of Enkara, at least where protecting Nynaeve was concerned.

More strangely, he hadn't blinked an eye at her introduction, either by name or as Elayne's Warder. Perhaps Malkier had had little time for books or legends.

"I would be happy to trade with you," she finally offered, a day out of Damelien.

He looked her up and down as if checking for hidden weapons. "What do you have to trade? You put that bow to better use than I could, surely."

"I mean, at nights," Birgitte went on. "If you would rather sleep with Nynaeve, and Elayne and Aviendha. I would certainly join the other Warders."

Lan remained expressionless. "Elayne and Aviendha are dauntless warriors, and I would trust them with my life. But as regards my wife and our privacy, I do not need them sharing my room any more than I need Jaem or Ned."

Light! Well, one could not say every man of the age was delicate as a Tovan. "I do not presume. It is only that Nynaeve wishes to be near you, at times."

"Nynaeve will learn that there are costs to every life, including the one she has chosen," he answered. "Surely _you_ can tolerate her ill moods?"

"I have done so before." Their stay in Samara had not been a pleasant experience, not for any of them, but at least it was her own life she was remembering, not a bygone turn of the wheel.

"I suspected as much," said Lan.

They stalled a day at Forel Market. Birgitte could not complain about the rain--they had certainly sacrificed enough to obtain the Bowl of the Winds, and whatever crops still grew needed nourishment--but Elayne insisted on experimenting with the _ter'angreal_ , and there was nothing Birgitte could do to guard her against any threats they might pose. Instead, she holed up in an inn. Cieryl at least continued to play at dice with her; the other Warders had grown tired of having to explain their rules when she expected Senjet scoring. They ought to be more patient, she thought. For all her memories, at least she was a more fair opponent than Mat Cauthon. But thinking of Mat and the boy they had abandoned in Ebou Dar made her scowl until even Cieryl decided he would look for some warmer clothing.

Lan, sensing her mood, offered her a cup of ale which she drank appreciatively. "Is Elayne well?"

"She is," said Birgitte. "Or as well as can be expected. The way she argues with the Windfinders, she will have no voice left to claim her throne. And Nynaeve?"

"Last I saw her, she was asking a Kinswoman in her fourth century grow a backbone, so as well as can be expected also."

"Last you saw her? The bond tells you more than that, at this distance."

"My bond is held by Myrelle Berengari Sedai," said Lan, in the same tone he might use discussing the weather. Mother's milk, he showed more emotion about the weather; it at least had changed of late!

"Forgive me," Birgitte replied, slowly sipping at her ale to keep from making conversation.

"There is nothing to forgive."

"Well," said Birgitte, "Three Oaths or no Three Oaths, I trust Nynaeve would waste no time in informing us were something amiss."

The man did not seem to smile, but perhaps the tension in his face relaxed a hairsbreadth. "I might wish she had sworn the oaths before I arrived in Ebou Dar. I would have liked to see what means she found to propose."

"What has one to do with the other?"

"She thought she might--require me--to wed, out of obligation. As if I would not choose her, had I the choice!"

"Nynaeve is a strong woman," Birgitte said. "It would be like her to imagine duties that had no true hold on her, or on you."

Lan tensed, as if taking aim at a Fade only he could see, but then calmed himself. He picked up the dice cup, gripping it like Elayne examined her _ter'angreal_. "Is this yours?"

"Cieryl's. Though the way his luck has been, you could win it off him when he comes back."

"There is little enough fortune in our struggle. I would not waste my share here."

"I'm not sure that's how it works," said Birgitte. "If Mat were here, he could tell us." She thought back to Ebou Dar, before the Seanchan had arrived with flying beasts and collared slaves and crossbows. "Even when he makes it to the farm, he won't know where we've gone."

"He knows how to look after himself. And, if Nynaeve is a reputable source, was intent on seeing Elayne crowned in Caemlyn. I trust he will find a path. If someone can make him a gateway, he might get to the capital before we do."

"He had better. Him and that boy both." There were so many orphans left in the devastation that came in the Dragon Reborn's wake: Seanchan on one coast, Shaido on another, unnatural weather wherever you journeyed. Yet Olver had something in his face of Gaidal, and some memories burned too clearly to ignore.

"Besides, I do not think Ebou Dar agreed with him," said Lan, again somber even by a Warder's standards. "Though it is not my place to wonder."

Elayne _had_ been muted when the subject of Mat had come up last. Was there something that Lan had seen, even in their brief reunion, that she had not? As quickly as the question came, she let it pass. Her duty was there, with Elayne, and the rest could wait. Instead, she raised her near-empty glass. "To journeying on."

" _Tai'shar_ Manetheren," Lan echoed.

Now, there was a name old enough for even her. Light, the Kinswoman in her fourth century was probably more conversant of the modern world than she was!

Well, there was nothing for it but to wait and see Elayne crowned. Then, at last, there would be a nation Birgitte could claim to belong to.


End file.
